


what's in a name?

by whooves



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whooves/pseuds/whooves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift for <a href="http://pnkruben.tumblr.com/">pnkruben</a> as part of the Les Mis Trick or Treat 2014 exchange!</p><p>Prompt being: a soulmate AU where someone has "Why is everyone named Jean?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Abby](http://vivelarepublique.tumblr.com/) for editing, as always.

The words on Enjolras’s arms are ones he’s heard often. They’re slightly embarrassing, completely useless, and he can’t do anything about them.

_“Why is everyone named Jean?”_

Soulmarks are supposed to be helpful. They’re supposed to be the first words said to you by your soulmate, and then you’re supposed to live happily ever after. Or whatever. But Enjolras has heard those words at least eight times, six of those within the past four months. He’s had a different response each time, but it’s never amounted to anything. Enjolras will roll up his sleeve or twist his arm around, and the person he’s been talking to will smile, but show him their words, which never match what he’s said.

It’s frustrating, to say the least. Enjolras is running out of clever ways to return the statement. After all, he’s in a unique position. Usually, he’s introduced by someone else, so there’s little chance the words inked on his soulmate will be _“Jean Enjolras”_ and more of a chance that whatever he says next will be.

Maybe Enjolras shouldn’t have made friends with a bunch of people who have the same name, but looking around the café, he can’t begin to regret it. Courfeyrac and Jehan are smiling at each other over tea, Bahorel is greeting Feuilly with a hug, Combeferre is cleaning her glasses.

Joly is walking in with someone new, a guy with a mass of messy dark curls, only slightly pushed down by a beanie. (It’s April. Enjolras rolls his eyes.) He starts at the front of the cafe and works his way back, introducing everyone as they make their way to the tables, where Enjolras and Combeferre sit. They get new members every so often; it’s not unusual. But this is Joly’s new roommate, so Enjolras will have to make at least a _minimal_ effort to be nice.

“This is Jeanne Combeferre,” Joly says to his friend. Enjolras keeps typing in order to finish his thought. “She and I are in clinicals together this rotation.”

Enjolras doesn’t turn his attention to Joly and his friend until he hears himself being introduced. He takes a breath and waits. 

“And our fearless leader,” Joly says, causing Enjolras to roll his eyes, “Jean Enjolras. Enjolras, this is Remi Grantaire.”

Grantaire extends his hand for Enjolras to shake. His grip is tight, but his eyes are friendly.

“Why is everyone named Jean?” He asks. Enjolras manages a polite smile, but internally steels himself for another disappointment.

“Why are you wearing a beanie in April?” is what comes out of his mouth. 

Grantaire stares at him and blinks, but doesn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he brings his free hand up to the neck of his shirt and pulls it sharply down, baring his collarbone. There, Enjolras reads, in his own messy scrawl, the words that he had just spoken.

‘Uh,” says Grantaire, “I guess because of you?” He drops into the seat across from Enjolras, stunned. Enjolras is sure Joly and Combeferre, if not the entire room, are staring at them. He can’t bring himself to look away from Grantaire and check.

“Enjolras,” Combeferre says tentatively, “It’s seven, did you want to start?” Enjolras frowns and looks around the room. Everyone is staring at them. His cheeks color slightly, and Grantaire slides his hand out of Enjolras’s.

Enjolras stands up, clears his throat, and starts to speak, but shakes his head half a sentence in. Grantaire is still staring at him.

“Combeferre, can you take over?” He asks her. “I’d like to take my soulmate out to dinner.” Grantaire’s eyes are wide. “If that’s okay with him,” Enjolras finishes, a small smile on his lips despite himself.

“That is definitely okay with him,” Grantaire says. He and Enjolras leave the café to a mix of clapping and whistling.

They stand outside the café for a moment, looking at each other. Grantaire glances back inside.

“So what was tonight’s meeting about?”

“We’re talking about the upcoming rally to raise awareness of the importance of voting in the upcoming midterm elections. Specifically for the college students on campus, a large number of which are not even registered to vote. It’s kind of like Rock the Vote, but not nearly as pandering.”

Grantaire scoffs.

“What was that?” Enjolras raises his eyebrows. Grantaire rolls his eyes, but slides his hand into Enjolras’s, interlacing their fingers.

“I’m going to tell you everything you’re doing wrong,” Grantaire says it with a sigh, like he’s long-suffering and Enjolras is the cause. But all the while, his hand is steady in Enjolras’s, and when he looks over, Enjolras catches the hint of a smile on his lips.

They argue all the way to Enjolras’s favorite restaurant, but their hands remain clasped together, swinging between them. Somehow, it feels right. Enjolras thinks he could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on [tumblr](http://grantairely.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
